The Forbidden Archives were a place of myth and whisper at court. They were not just a collection of sensitive documents, but a vault of secrets, the final resting place of truths too dangerous for the world to know. The archives were located in the deepest sub-level of the Imperial Library, protected by a single, massive iron door and a lock that, according to legend, had not been opened in a century.
Only one man held the key: Kaelen Valerius, the Head Archivist. It was a ceremonial title, a position of trust granted to his family generations ago. No one, not even the Emperor, had ever asked him to open it.
"The entrance to the passage is behind a false bookshelf at the back of the vault," Kaelen explained, his voice low and tense as he pointed to the location on the ancient map. They were gathered in the safe house study, the air thick with the scent of old parchment and conspiracy. "But the vault itself is warded. Ancient magic. I do not know if we can bypass it."
This was a problem for the Ledger. Lia focused her will, her query precise. Analyze the magical wards on the Forbidden Archives. Identify weaknesses.
[Query Cost: 50 RP. This is a Tier 2 magical analysis.]
It was a significant cost, but necessary. Proceed.
[50 RP Spent. Current Balance: 437 RP.] [ANALYSIS COMPLETE. The wards are ancient, but dormant. They are powered by a latent magical energy field within the palace. They are designed to repel any unauthorized magical signature. A non-magical user, however, would be able to pass through them as if they were not there.]
Lia relayed the information. "The wards are a magical filter. They will stop a mage, or anyone using a magical artifact. But a person with no active magic… should be able to walk right through."
Julian and Kaelen stared at her. "You," Julian said, his voice a soft, dawning realization. "You are not a mage. Your power comes from… something else. The wards will not see you as a threat."
"And Kaelen is the authorized key-holder," Lia continued, the plan forming in her mind. "His presence will satisfy the lock. I will accompany him as his 'assistant.' We will enter the vault together. Once inside, he will create a distraction, and I will slip into the hidden passage."
It was a clean, elegant plan, but fraught with danger.
The next day, Kaelen made an official request to unseal the Forbidden Archives, citing the need to cross-reference an ancient text for a "special research project" assigned to him by the Emperor. The request, as expected, was granted without question.
That evening, they put their plan into motion. Lia, dressed in the simple, grey robes of a library acolyte, her face partially hidden by a deep hood, walked at Kaelen's side through the silent, echoing halls of the Imperial Library.
They reached the great iron door at the end of a long, torch-lit corridor. Kaelen produced a large, ornate iron key from a pouch at his belt. He inserted it into the massive lock, the sound of the tumblers turning echoing loudly in the silence.
With a deep, groaning protest, the door swung inward, revealing a wall of absolute darkness and the smell of dust and forgotten time.
"The wards are just beyond the threshold," Kaelen whispered, his hand trembling slightly.
Lia took a deep breath and stepped forward. She placed a hand on the threshold, then, expecting a jolt of magical force, she stepped through.
Nothing happened. She passed through the invisible barrier as if it were nothing more than a curtain of air. The Ledger had been right.
They entered the vault, lighting an oil lamp to push back the oppressive darkness. The room was circular, its walls lined with shelves groaning under the weight of a thousand ancient, leather-bound books and scrolls.
"I will begin my 'research' at the central archives," Kaelen said, his voice a low whisper. "The false bookshelf is on the far side of the room. You will have ten minutes. No more."
Lia nodded, melting into the shadows as Kaelen proceeded to the center of the room, making a show of unrolling a scroll on a large reading table.
She moved with a silent, practiced grace, her feet making no sound on the dusty stone floor. She found the bookshelf exactly where the map had indicated. It was a seamless piece of craftsmanship, indistinguishable from the others. But the Ledger's Attunement utility highlighted a subtle, almost invisible seam along its edge, and a small, cunningly hidden pressure plate in the floor before it.
She pressed the plate with her foot, and a section of the bookshelf swung inward with a soft, whisper-quiet click, revealing a dark, narrow opening.
The air that wafted out was cold, ancient, and carried with it a faint, metallic tang. It was the smell of old magic, and old blood.
She slipped into the passage, pulling the bookshelf closed behind her. The darkness was absolute.
She spent another 20 RP on a low-light vision enhancement from the Ledger, and the tunnel resolved into a long, straight corridor, carved from the very bedrock of the palace. The walls were slick with moisture, and the silence was profound, broken only by the sound of her own steady breathing.
She walked for what felt like an eternity, the passage sloping gently downward, leading her deeper and deeper into the earth, into the heart of the palace's mystery.
Finally, she saw a faint light ahead. A soft, pulsating, violet glow.
She slowed her approach, her hand resting on the hilt of a small, sharp dagger she had concealed in her robes. She rounded a final corner and stopped dead, her breath catching in her throat.
She was standing on a small ledge, looking down into a vast, circular cavern. The cavern was a nexus of raw, magical power. Lines of energy, like rivers of purple lightning, flowed through the rock, all converging on the center of the room.
And in the center, on a raised dais of black, volcanic rock, was a large, open book.
It was bound in a strange, leathery, black material that seemed to drink the light, and the pages were filled with a jagged, spidery script that writhed and pulsed with a malevolent, purple energy. It was the Grimoire.
And floating in the air above it was a single, perfect, black pearl.
It was a Soul Pearl. The prison of a human soul, used as a power source for dark magic.
But it was the face she could just make out, shimmering within the pearl's dark, opalescent depths, that made her blood run cold. It was the face of a woman with her mother's eyes. A woman who had been the previous head of the de Ranes family. Her aunt. A powerful sorceress who had vanished without a trace fifteen years ago.
The Emperor hadn't just used her as a battery. He had been feeding on her entire family.